Danger Has Its Consequences
by D. Mitch
Summary: George tests a product by himself and, in doing so, puts himself in a dangerous situation. Fred is less than pleased with his twin. Contains SPANKING! Don't like? Don't read! Ignores books five through seven!


Title: Danger Has Its Consequences  
Author: Mitch  
Rating: PG for mild swearing and spanking.  
A.N.: This was written as a response to a request that someone, anyone! Write a story wherein one Weasley Twin spanks the other. Enjoy!  
Disclaimer: I own nothing mentioned in the text of this story. There is no money being made and no copyright infringement is intended, I'm merely playing with JK's characters a bit. ;)

When it came to their pranks and inventions, the Weasley twins, Fred and George (or Gred and Forge, depending on the mood they were in), were famous (or infamous, depending on how you looked at it) throughout Hogwarts. Their sudden departure from Hogwarts the year before, complete with a spectacular fireworks show and a swamp no one, not even Professor Dumbledore, could get rid of, was still talked about in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Students somehow managed to sneak in various products from Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, the twin's joke shop in Diagon Alley that had quickly gained more popularity and sales than even Zonko's Joke Shop in Hogsmeade, and delighted in driving the teachers crazy with the use of said products. It had gotten so bad, the teachers had declared anyone discovered to be using Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes to get out of class would receive a weeks' worth of detentions with Argus Filch, the nasty old caretaker. Yeah, the Weasley twins were rather well known for their ingenuity. They weren't so well known for their responsibility; at least George wasn't, at any rate.

George Weasley, more so than his brother, tended to act first and think later. He wasn't very fond of the research he and Fred had to undertake before they could begin making a new product. And once it was made, George wanted to test it right off, instead of conducting the broad series of safety tests that Fred insisted on. It was the only time the twins disagreed, but Fred's common sense helped balance out George's recklessness eventually, a fact that had kept the twins' products in high demand and ensured, at the same time, that no one was ever hurt or injured by a product they bought at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

A great example of George's reckless behavior had been in their seventh year, when George had arranged a meeting with a rather shady wizard in Diagon Alley to procure the very rare and somewhat expensive Demiguise hair they needed to perfect the potion they used with a highly advanced Invisibility charm when they were trying to make their Headless Hats. Fred had decided to forego the potion in favor of modifying the Invisibility charm, but George knew that, if he just tried a bit harder, he could find the hair. He'd been right, but Fred had been furious. He'd made George swear he wouldn't ever do something so foolish again, considering the younger-by-three-minutes twin had confessed the wizard he'd met with had come very close to cursing him into oblivion (though he never did tell Fred why, exactly, the man had gotten so angry with him). George had promised, and he'd managed to keep his promise. And then Fred had come up with the brilliant idea of making shield hats. The idea was that the hats would be able to protect the wearer against a variety of mild hexes, jinxes, and curses. When their own tests had proven the hats worked, the twins began expanding the line to include cloaks and gloves. George wanted to test them against stronger curses. Fred refused, because, if the Shield Line didn't work, they could get seriously injured. Which was why George, decked out in a Shield Hat, Shield Cloak, and Shield Gloves, made his way down into Knockturn Alley. He'd prove they were affective, and then they could advertise them and they'd make a fortune! Who wouldn't want to have a cloak, or a hat or gloves, that would protect them against most major curses?

The perfect opportunity for the test came when a wizard clad in a black cloak, hood up so his face couldn't be seen, bumped into George, knocking his hat askew.

"Watch where the 'ell yer goin'!" The wizard snarled.

George sneered. "How about you watch where the hell _you're_ going; you nearly knocked me over!"

Just like that, the wizard pulled his wand. Pointing it directly at George, he snarled, "Wan' ter make somethin' of it, boy?"

"Bring it on, asshole," George muttered. Next thing the red-head knew, a jet of red was hurtling towards him. He didn't even make an attempt to block it. As he pulled his wand, the curse hit his cloak. George grinned in satisfaction as the curse bounced right off.

He cast a mild curse in response, and the duel was on. He lost track of how many hexes and curses came his way, but he didn't try to block any of them. Streaks of red, purple, and blue flew through the air as he dueled with the masked wizard. A few got through, but they were so mild he didn't even notice. The Shield Line was working! Wait until he told Fred! He'd just cast a jelly-legs jinx when he felt a searing pain across his stomach. His touched the wound and his fingers came away bloody. A curse was on his lips, but as he looked up to cast it, he noticed the wizard was gone; he'd apparated away. Swearing under his breath, George apparated to the flat above Weasleys Wizard Wheezes that he shared with Fred. With any luck, Fred would be downstairs opening the shop.

He apparated directly into his bedroom, hoping he'd be able to go from there into the bathroom so he could get cleaned up. He quickly shed the hat, cloak, and gloves and removed his tee shirt, wincing as he saw the amount of blood coating the front of it. The actual cut on his stomach wasn't as bad as he'd originally thought, but it looked like it was pretty deep. He'd have to put some antiseptic on it before using any sort of healing charm. He opened his bedroom door, wincing again as the door creaked loudly; if Fred was home, there'd be no way he missed that.

"George, is that you?" His brother's voice called down the hallway.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Just going to the loo." He called back, hating the fact that his voice wavered just a bit.

"All right, George?" Fred's footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

Quickly, George tried to dart out of his bedroom and into the bathroom, but Fred reached the end of the hall before he could close the bathroom door.

"You sure you're all ri—" Fred abruptly stopped as he caught sight of the gash across his twin brother's stomach. "What the bleedin' hell happened?" he asked.

"This? Oh, it's nothing." George waved a dismissive hand. "I went into Knockturn Alley to test the Shield line, and guess what, Fred? It works! They repel most major curses! Well, uh, except for cutting curses, apparently," he gave a bit of a chuckle.

"Except for … George, what the hell were you thinking? There's a three inch gash across your stomach! You could have gotten seriously, seriously hurt! There's a reason I didn't want to test the Shield line against stronger curses, they're not supposed to work against anything other than a bloody jinx!" He ushered his brother into the bathroom as he spoke, forcing his twin to sit on the toilet while he dug through the medicine cupboard for antiseptic. He grabbed a flannel, dousing it generously with the antiseptic before pressing it to the wound. "You promised - promised! - last year that you wouldn't do anything so bloody stupid, so -dangerous- again. I can't believe you; what were you thinking? 'Oh, Fred doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm sure everything'll be okay... I'll just go off and test it on my own, not tell anyone what I'm doing, and it'll be all peaches and cream.'?"

George winced as the antiseptic came into contact with the gash across his stomach. He couldn't see why Fred was so upset; it was only a cut. "I had to do something. If I didn't take the initiative, nothing would ever get done? One of us has to have the balls to do something, Fred!" George burst out.

"One of us -- George, I don't think you get it. The reason I -don't- do something is because I don't want either one of us to get hurt." Fred couldn't believe his brother had such a cavalier attitude about all this. He removed the flannel, pleased to see the bleeding had stopped. "Why do you think I gave up on the Invisibility potion for the Headless Hats? Or Anti-coagulant for the Nosebleed Nougats? Or half the other things I've vetoed for our products? Because they're dangerous, that's why!" He pulled his wand out of his back pocket as he continued his lecture. "What if something went wrong and one of us got seriously injured?" He demanded. Waving his wand in an intricate pattern and casting a healing charm he watched as the wound began to knit itself back together. A pink scar formed, and he dug through the cupboard until he found a large bandage and a potion that would remove the scar. "How do you think you'd feel if I'd gone off on my own to haggle with Borgin about an illegal potions ingredient? Or dueled with some masked wizard just to test our product? How do you think I'd feel if something happened to you?" He slathered the scar cream on the shiny pink scar and put the bandage over it.

"Fred, it's always you... you always come up with the ideas, you always know what to do to make something work. I just... damnit, I just wanted to show you I'm actually a part of this... I just wanted to impress you, for once, instead of the other way around."

"Do I look like I'm impressed?" Fred asked.

George looked at his brother. Fred's face was red with anger, his blue eyes shining with fury and concern all at once.

"No," he muttered.

"No." Fred repeated. "And you know what's worse? You don't even seem to think it's a big deal."

"I get it, Fred, really." George defended himself. "You've made your point. I won't do something so stupid again." He stood up.

"You know, you said that after the Demiguise hair incident, too. 'I promise I won't do anything reckless or dangerous, Fred.' I see how well that's worked out."

Fred walked out of the bathroom and returned to the living room. George followed him. "I just can't believe you'd be so stupid, George. You'd think after all the times you got in trouble when we were kids that you'd know better by now." Fred suddenly stopped. He turned around to face his brother. "You know… Me constantly telling you not to be so reckless hasn't seemed to have made a difference to you, kind of like Mum and Dad yelling at you when we were younger never made a difference." He paused before continuing, "But I do know something that _always_ seemed to make you think twice when we were kids."

"What are you –" George started. Then, suddenly, realization dawned on him. "No. No, no, no." He said, shaking his head. "You can't possibly be considering…"

"What? Walloping your behind until you realize that you can't just run off and recklessly put yourself into danger? Yeah, yeah, I think I am." Fred grabbed his brother's arm and started dragging him to the sofa. "When nothing else, not being lectured, not being grounded, not having to de-gnome the garden or having your broom confiscated, made a difference, getting your arse tanned always did make a difference."

"You can't! You… you're Fred!" George exclaimed, trying to shake his brother's hold on him. But Fred had a firm grip of his upper arm and George couldn't break free.

Fred sat down, hauling his struggling twin across his lap. "Yeah, a thoroughly frustrated and pissed-off Fred. One way or another, this is happening, George, and I'm warning you, the more you struggle the worse it'll be." He said firmly as he cast a quick charm that had George's trousers and pants at his ankles; Merlin knew he'd heard the charm cast often enough by his mum or dad just before he or one of his siblings got spanked.

"Fred! N—OW!" His protest quickly turned to an exclamation of shock and pain as Fred's hand connected solidly with his bare backside. _There is no way this is happening. Fred is seriously not walloping me!_ George thought, trying to squirm off of his brother's lap. Fred was having none of it however; his hand continued to fall, searing angry, pink handprints onto George's pale behind.

Fred rained sharp smacks all over his brother's backside, watching as the pale skin turned a faint pink. He was determined that George would finally learn he couldn't just go off and satisfy his every whim, especially not when it put himself in danger! That determined driving him, he increased the pace of his swats, making sure to cover every inch of his brother's behind. George struggled against him, kicking his legs and crying out with each wallop, but Fred didn't stop until the pale skin was blushing a bright, dusty rose.

"George Fabian Weasley," he demanded, resting his hand on George's backside, "now that I have your attention, why are you getting this spanking?"

"Because my brother's an evil nutcase!" George declared hotly.

"Wrong answer," Fred replied, delivering three stinging swats to each of George's thighs. "Try again."

"OWWW, okay, okay. Because I went off into Knockturn Alley and got into a duel just to test a product." George gave, humiliated as he felt tears sting his eyes.

"Care to tell me why that's unacceptable, little brother?"

"Because I put myself in danger."

"Very good." Fred lifted his hand and began spanking again. His swats fell hard and fast, quickly turning his brother's backside from dusty rose to a brilliant red.

George hadn't been spanked in years and he couldn't believe how much it hurt! His backside felt like he'd sat on a thousand burning hot coals! Tears were streaming from his eyes as the fire continued to build. He was quite sure he'd never sit again and he knew he would never, ever put himself in a dangerous situation again! As Fred landed another volley of stinging wallops, George howled and gave up fighting; he lay limply across his brother's lap, sure the horrible spanking would never be over.

Fred paused as he felt the fight leave his twin. Taking a deep breath, he directed his last set of smacks to George's sit-spots and thighs. "You –SWAT!- will –SWAT! – NOT –SWAT!- put –SWAT!- yourself –SWAT- in –SWAT- danger –SWAT- again –SWAT! Understood? –SWAT! SWAT!"

"YESSSSS," George wailed. "N-never ag-again!" He choked out, sobbing for all he was worth.

"Good." Fred stopped spanking and reversed the spell that had removed his brother's clothing, his pants and trousers firmly back in place. He rubbed his brother's back, waiting until George had control of his tears before allowing him to stand up.

George stood, a bit shaky on his feet. His face was beet red and stained with tears, lower lip trembling. "F-fred…I… I'm sorry, really…"

"For what, dear brother?" Fred asked as he stood, letting his brother know that, as was the Weasley custom after punishment, his transgression was entirely forgotten and he would not be bringing it up any more.

George managed a weak smile and suddenly reached out and enveloped his brother in a hug.

Fred hugged his brother back. "Now go get dressed, would ya? We've got a shop to open!"


End file.
